


All The Little Memories

by Probably_Not_Batman



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Family, Growing Up, Memories, Other, Wriggling Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Not_Batman/pseuds/Probably_Not_Batman
Summary: The Dolorosa has a treat for her son on his wriggling day, and reflects on the memories that go with it
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Ancestor Exchange 2020





	All The Little Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pinkycat413](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkycat413/gifts).



The soft crackling of the fire fought the silence of the woods around you, the warmth soaking into your skin as you worked. The smell of cooking meat wafted through the air and you were sure the others would be back soon, hurried by the unusual dinner. It was fish, something you wouldn’t risk going near the water to catch and normally wouldn’t waste the money on, but tonight was a special night.  
You turn the fish on the makeshift grill you’d fashioned ages ago, the fillets cut neatly and covered a sauce you had learned just for this recipe. Just for a certain picky wriggler. You smile a little and wonder just where he is. The moon is starting to go down and the food will get cold if you have to move it inside the cave. An amused smile twitches your lips as you wonder if he forgot what night it was. You wouldn’t exactly be surprised if he had, it isn’t as though it was easy to keep up with time or day on the run.

A rustle makes you perk up, looking to the line of trees surrounding the little clearing. A soft glow makes you relax the instinctive tense of your shoulders, standing and brushing dust from your skirts as your family slips out from between the trees. Psiioniic is floating with Disciple clinging to his shoulders and Signless under his arm. There’s a half pout on your sons face, mostly offset by the laughter coming from all three of them.

Signless wiggles away from the grip as soon as he meets your eyes, looking over the spread you’ve prepared with a slowly widening grin. “What’s the occasion?” he asks, hurrying over to examine it closer. You lightly swat his hand away, cupping his face to look him over and fix his hair before he squirms away, the half pout returning at Psii’s cackle.

“You really don’t know?” you say teasingly, turning back to the fire and checking the food one last time before taking it off the heat. “And here you used to be so excited about your wriggling days.”

You hear the thump before you see it, turning sharply only to see Psii with one arm around Signless’ neck and the other quickly messing up the troll’s already unruly hair. “Why didn’t you tell uth?” he huffs.

“I didn’t know!” Signless protests, finally managing to get away. “I haven’t really been…keeping up with dates.”

“The life of a furgitive,” Disciple giggles, hopping down from her spot on Psii’s back and examining the food. “It smells so good! What is it?”

“A spiced fish recipe I learned when Signless was barely past pupation.” You pull out a few rough wooden plates and begin to divide the food between them. “Plus some roasted tubers and vegetables of course.” You hand the first to Signless and smooth his hair when his hands are full. It’s an old habit from when he was younger, brushing the unruly locks back with your claws in place of a comb.

He huffs but stays still as you tuck it neatly behind his ears, though you aren’t sure whether it’s because he’s long since used to it or because he doesn’t want to risk the full plate in his hands. Teasing chirps sound from the others and Signless gives you an embarrassed look. “ _Mom_ ,” he says in a voice you know he’d deny was a whine and you laugh as you step back.

“Okay, okay.” You hand the other two their plates before taking your own to your seat beside the fire.  
Signless sits on a log Psii had dragged over yesternight, the gold and olive seated on either side. Disciple picks up a piece of fish between her claws and gives it a cursory sniff before popping it in her mouth. She perks up almost immediately, beaming at you and reminding you more than a little of when Signless first tried the recipe.

**> Dolorosa: Remember**

Your name hasn’t been spoken since you’d left the caverns, sneaking out in the middle of the day with supplies to care for the tiny grub hidden under your sun cloak. You are only known as the Dolorosa, the title you’d taken when you’d left your life behind.

It had been barely two sweeps since you’d found him, the candy colored grub curled in the bottom of a still smoking crater. It had been hard to leave your home, to leave all that you had known and the duties you’d been raised for, but you knew in your pusher that you couldn’t leave this grub.

He’d pupated a sweep ago and had grown more quickly than you’d expected. Working with grubs had prepared you for a lot, but he wasn’t a grub anymore. A grub was easy to hide under a cloak, the bustle of the market keeping the chirps of a hungry grub from being noticed. Now he was about as tall as your knee, far too big to hold under your cloak and not nearly old enough to be left on his own. You doubt a lusus would leave for any significant amount of time at this age, even ones that had an actual hive to keep the wriggler safe.

However, you do have to get supplies. You hunt when you can and gather plants you know are safe to eat, but there are things you don’t have the means or skills to get and you were trying to keep up with the appetite of a growing troll. So here you are, in the middle of a busy market with your hand firmly in his. You made sure his hood was kept up, jade stitching along the edge hopefully enough to avoid questions.

An olive blood with a cart of dried meats catches your attention. You step up, reminding your charge to stay by your side as you negotiate the most meat you can get for the few coins you have. When you have the bag in your hand, you reach down and your hands grasps at empty air.

You feel your meal sac drop, cold creeping into your veins before you even look down. The spot he had been standing in is empty and you spin only to be faced with the thick crowd. You barely notice yourself dropping the bag back on the cart and the olive trying to call you back. You’re too busy searching the crowd, barely holding yourself back from making a scene. If someone looked to closely, or he fell and got injured, or even ran into the wrong troll at the time he’d be-

“Where’s your lusus?” you hear a gruff voice ask, your head snapping towards the sound to see a tiny cloaked troll standing in front of another food stand. This one has a wide flat cooking surface covered in various cooking meats, the troll standing behind the booth an older looking teal blood. He raises a thick eyebrow when you rush forward and scoop up your child.

Kankri doesn’t seem to realize how worried he’s made you, patting your face as though he doesn’t already have your full attention and pointing at the chunks of fish cooking in a neat line. “I’m sorry,” you say to both of them, the seller for any bother that might have been caused and to your son because you can’t get him the treat.

“But it smells good!” He protests, but his pouting won’t put coins in your pocket as much as you’d like to buy him a treat.  
“I already bought our food for the week,” you tell him. The seller clears his throat and you look back up to apologize again, but he waves it off and hands Kankri a skewer with a piece of fish on the end.

Kankri takes a bite and his entire face lights up, his bright toothy smile turned to the teal as he gave a loud thank you and ate the rest. You thank him as well and as you head back across the market to retrieve the bag you’d left behind, Kankri waves over your shoulder.

**> You wish it could be that simple again**

You had known the day you picked him up that he was special, and every night, every wipe, every sweep after he’d continued to prove you right. He had a way of connecting with everyone he met, of being open and friendly and hopeful in a way you’d never seen before. The early sweeps hadn’t been easy, but they had been worth it.

You look up at the sky as the stars begin to dim and back to your family. The family he brought to you, laughing and eating together as you celebrate surviving yet another sweep. For a moment, you can forget the drones and the Empress and the danger you all are in.

As the camp is cleared for the day and they curl on the pallets inside the cave to sleep, you take first watch by the entrance and watch the sunlight creep across the ground. A new sweep for him, a new sweep for you all.

And you were going to make sure you all made it to the next one.


End file.
